Rings
by mochachill
Summary: Shore leave has unexpected results for several members of the crew...(Tu/S, A/T) *COMPLETE*
1. Default Chapter

Rings

Disclaimer: Enterprise is the property of Paramount, no infringement is intended.

****

"Look at this! What do you think?"

Trip Tucker turned to view Hoshi Sato's extended hand. On it she wore a large ring. An enormous pale blue stone glowed inside an intricate silver setting. The ring wrapped around her finger, almost covering the first digit.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Kinda gaudy, idn't it?" 

Hoshi snatched her hand back, frowning at him. She made a little sound of irritation in her throat and stalked away, disappearing among the other market shoppers.

"And you have a reputation as a ladies man?"

Trip turned to see his friend Travis leaning against a sturdy pole of the tent they were in. Mayweather was laughing.

Trip was embarrassed. "I was just bein' honest. Should of known better."

"Commander, I don't pretend to understand women. But I do know that if they show you something their wearing, you always say, 'looks good,'" Travis advised.

Trip grinned and trained his attention back on the table of tools he had been considering before Hoshi interrupted. They had less than half an hour before they were to rendezvous at the shuttlepod. They were on Sauri Mal, a small planet that was basically nothing more than a gigantic flea market. Enterprise had stopped for supplies, but Archer had granted his crew each a few hours to fly down, in shifts, and browse. They were the last group before Enterprise resumed course.

Deciding he didn't need anything—not for what the vendor was asking, anyway—he turned and followed Travis out of the tent. They entered a bustling crowd and began shoving their way in the direction of the shuttlepod.

"This place was a lotta fun, but I can't say I'm sorry to be leavin'," he yelled to Travis, wrinkling his nose as they passed a stand offering foul-smelling stew.

"What?!" Travis returned. The noise from the crowd was deafening.

"I said…ah, never mind," Trip shook his head at him. They continued on without talking.

Arriving a short time later, they found Hoshi and several other crew members waiting for them. They all squeezed inside; Travis took the helm. At a nod from Trip, Hoshi took the seat closest to Travis. Trip dropped down behind her. 

Travis glanced at her hand. With his usual wide smile, he said, "Say, Hosh, that's a pretty ring. It looks nice on you."

Hoshi smiled at him brightly. "Thank you!" She looked at Trip pointedly and then focused her gaze on the windows in front of her.

With her attention elsewhere, Travis grinned at Trip and winked. Trip made a face and did a silent parody of Travis's huge grin. Travis laughed out loud.

Hoshi swung her gaze back to him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Sometimes I just love my job is all." This time Trip glared, causing Travis to laugh again.

****

Back in her room, Hoshi admired her ring. It was funny, she thought. Trip had been right—it was a little gaudy for her tastes. But when she saw it, she just had to have it. Something about the stone was entrancing. The blue seemed to swirl, reminding her of mist or clouds. _'It is beautiful,'_ she decided. 

She dressed for bed and moved to her jewelry box. The ring had several sharp edges in its design and she didn't want to risk cutting herself while she slept. She tugged on it with no result. _'Crap. Figures. I spend a small fortune on this thing and it turns out to be too small.'_ It had seemed like a perfect fit in the market. Well, her fingers were probably swollen, not used to wearing them. 

She was exhausted, so she decided to risk it and wear the thing to bed. If worse came to worse, she could ask Chef for some butter tomorrow. Stretching out, she fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

****

Trip walked into the mess hall for breakfast the next morning, stomach growling. It was early, so the room was mostly empty. He made his breakfast selections and took a table alone. His mind wandered over the details of their trip to Sauri Mal. Thinking of Travis teasing him made him smile as he chewed his eggs. His friendship with the young Ensign was turning into some of the most fun he'd had in a while.

Hoshi entered the room and waved at him. He waved back and gestured for her to join him. Grabbing her breakfast, she took the seat across from him.

"Good mornin'."

She smiled at him. "Good morning, Commander." He was struck by how pretty she was; not for the first time, but today was the first time he felt compelled to comment.

"Wow, you look nice today, Hoshi." 

Her smile broadened. "Thank you," she said softly.

Trip was a little startled by his sudden blurting. Not one to stand on formality, he still wasn't sure if it was appropriate for a Commander to comment on an Ensign's physical appearance. But Hoshi seemed pleased, not offended, so he shrugged it off.

"I see you're still wearin' your ring," he said to change the subject. He glanced down and scooped up more eggs. Looking back up, he found Hoshi watching him closely. Her hands rested on the table and she was making no move to eat. 

"Somethin' wrong, Hoshi?" he asked. The way she was looking him directly in the eye was starting to make him nervous.

"No, Trip." She began to eat. She'd always ignored his suggestion that she call him Trip off duty; he smiled at her change of heart. "And yes, I'm still wearing the ring. Couldn't get the dumb thing off, actually. I think my hands must be swollen or something."

Trip looked down at her hand. "Really? What've ya tried?"

"Soap and water. That's about it so far; I was thinking of trying butter next." She held the hand up for both of them to study.

"Oh, well, here." Trip took her hand in his, reaching for a pat of butter on his own plate. Her skin felt hot in his hand; his palm tingled. At the contact, her eyes had widened, staring back into his.

"Um…" Trip decided to bluster through. He slicked butter around the base of the ring and her finger. He pulled ineffectually at the ring. "Damn. This thing is tight." His eyes met hers again and he flushed. "I think maybe you're stuck with it, huh?"

"Yes," Hoshi said quietly. "I guess so."

"Well…I gotta get to my shift. If ya get desperate, stop by Engineering—I have a tool that should be able to cut it off without hurting you any."

Hoshi withdrew her hand. "No. I'm not ready to do that yet." Trip tried to remember if her voice had always had that husky quality. Realizing she was staring at him again, he stood. "Ok. Well, if ya change your mind…" Under her intense gaze, his let the sentence trail off and all but sprinted from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

****

That afternoon, Jon Archer faced his senior staff in the situation room. He was bored again, and he listened to their reports hopefully, for anything that might provide a little adventure. 

Reed was making his usual plea for increased weapons and target practice—nothing new there. Trip had squeezed three percent more efficiency out of the engines. Impressive, but again, nothing that was going to make the Captain's day any more interesting. By the time T'Pol spoke, he almost groaned. He rarely could count on her for anything more exciting than a gas giant.

Today, she surprised him. Instead of spouting data about stars or comets, she said, "Captain, I have uncovered a planet that might hold some interest for you."

He perked up a little.

"It is Menshara-class. The Vulcans have not yet made contact with the species that populates it, but they are humanoid and they do appear to have warp technology." The humans exchanged animated glances. _First contact_. 

"How far away?" he asked her excitedly.

"At our current rate of speed, it will take approximately two days to reach."

Jon grinned at Trip, but the Commander's eyes were on Hoshi. He had a distant look on his face.

"Set a course," Jon told T'Pol. "In the meantime, I would like to review what data you have."

"Of course, Captain." She handed him a PADD. As he took it, their hands brushed. Her fingers were very warm and the contact left him with a tingling sensation. For a moment, her eyes flicked up and met his. Jon was startled by the expression in them—more by the fact that there was any expression than anything else. She quickly looked away. When she turned back to him, it was gone. He suspected he had imagined it.

"Ok," he said, addressing the rest of the group. "Sounds like we have a plan. I'll see you all later." They nodded and dispersed, each heading back to their stations. 

Jon hurried to his ready room, eager to go over the information on a new species. 

Behind him, T'Pol stood still. As she watched him go, her fingers brushed absently at the heavy ring on her finger.

****

At dinner that evening, Tucker and Archer talked cheerfully of their latest destination. Archer was telling the officer what little T'Pol had found. The Vulcan sat quietly across from him, sipping her soup and listening.

"Well, I for one can't wait," Tucker announced. "It'll feel good to stretch the ol' legs." He glanced at T'Pol and decided to draw her into the conversation. "Right, T'Pol?"

She stopped eating and looked at him. "Yes." With that brief answer, she reached for her water glass. 

Tucker's eyes followed her hand. "Say," he said abruptly, "That's a pretty ring."

"Thank you." He waited for her to comment further, but wasn't surprised when she didn't.

"I didn't think Vulcans went in much for jewelry. Figured you'd think it was unpractical or somethin'." She merely raised a brow. He continued, "You know, Hoshi bought something similar to that on Sauri Mal. 'Cept hers was blue, not red."

Archer was now watching them curiously. "Trip, I've never known you to take such an interest in jewelry."

Tucker looked embarrassed. "Right. Just thought it was a funny coincidence."

Archer turned to T'Pol, pointing his fork at her. "You know, he is right about one thing. I didn't think Vulcans wore much jewelry. Did you buy that on Sauri Mal?"

"Yes. I was in the company of some of the female crew. They were each buying a ring. I believed it would be a good opportunity to establish camaraderie with them—thereby making our working relationships more efficient." 

"Really? I didn't realize you had such an interest in socializing with the crew. Are you sure you didn't just think it was pretty?" Archer teased her.

She flushed. Looking at him very directly, she said, "I am certain. Now, if you will excuse me, I have meditations to do." She stood. "Good night, Commander. Jonathon."

They stared after her. As soon as the door closed behind her, their gazes swung back together.

"Did she just blush?"

"Did she just call you Jonathon?"

They looked at each other incredulously, with no idea how to react. Finally, Trip laughed. "Maybe we're rubbin' off on her more than we thought." He took a bite of his fried chicken.

"Yeah, maybe so," Jon said, smiling a little and digging in.

They both looked back at the door, chewing their food. Their smiles faded into identical looks of puzzlement.

****

Please R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

(See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer)

****

After dinner, Trip meandered down to the movie. They were showing a classic, Star Wars, and that was all he'd needed to say to convince Malcolm and Travis to meet him. He found them waiting inside for him and he thankfully took the seat they'd saved. The room was packed.

"Hey, ya'll. Thanks for holdin' a place for me. For once, they're showin' somethin' I really want to see." 

"I quite agree," Malcolm said, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm not much for most of your American tales, but this movie never disappoints." 

"I know," Travis told them, leaning around Malcolm. "When I was kid, I used to love this movie. Always liked to pretend I was Luke Skywalker." 

Trip grinned. "Not me. I was Han Solo."

"I always fancied myself as Han Solo. Or maybe a young Obi-Wan," Malcolm said, smiling. 

"Really? I would've guessed you for R2-D2," Trip said. He tried to keep a straight face, but failed. 

Malcolm glared at him. "Is that a height joke?" he demanded. 

"I was thinking Darth Vader," Travis intervened, ever the peacekeeper. 

Malcolm looked pleased. 

"Yeah, I could see that," Trip decided. "If anybody'd give in to the Dark Side, it'd be you." 

Malcolm attempted to look annoyed, but ended up grinning and rolling his eyes. All three men laughed and settled in as the lights dimmed. 

****

Just as the Rebels were launching an attack on the Death Star, Trip noticed a change in the room. As usual, a few people had left during the course of the film, and others had moved to fill their seats. Very slowly, Trip became aware of an intoxicating scent—soap. Funny, he'd didn't remember soap ever smelling, well, so damn _erotic_. His heart rate started to increase. His face felt warm. Glancing beside him, he saw that Malcolm and Travis were both shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. 

A hand tapped him on his shoulder. 

"Commander," Ensign Cutler whispered, "would you mind changing seats with me? I'm having trouble seeing over you." 

"Oh, um, of course." Trip stood up, slumping low, and moved into the row behind him. He fumbled around Cutler in the dark while she moved into his chair. Eyes still on the screen, he dropped into her vacated seat. 

There, he found himself pressed shoulder to knee with a very warm body and the source of the soap smell. 

He knew without turning his head that it was Hoshi. His body's reaction made that clear. The two of them sat silently while Trip pretended to watch the movie. He could hear her—feel her—breathing softly. His breath sped up in time with hers. 

Ahead of them, Cutler whispered to Malcolm, their bent heads outlined by the screen. 

Against Trip's body, Hoshi shifted in her seat and sighed a little. He swallowed. He'd never noticed these uniforms were so uncomfortably tight before. He kept his eyes straight ahead. 

He saw that Travis was no longer watching the screen. The Ensign's head was turned to a pretty crewmember beside him. 

"This is my favorite part," a quiet voice whispered in Trip's ear. She had moved even closer to speak; her breath touched his ear. 

Onscreen, Luke Skywalker was listening to the voice of Ben Kenobi and preparing to save the day. When Skywalker hit his mark, Hoshi gave an excited little gasp and grabbed Trip's upper thigh. 

Trip shot out of his seat. He knew the polite thing would be to make some excuse, but with the kind of images in his head right now, he didn't trust himself to speak. Instead he rushed from the room. 

Out in the corridor, he stopped and braced one arm against the wall. He was breathing hard, his uniform had gotten uncomfortably snug, and his face was as hot as if he'd been exercising. He was being bombarded with images of warm skin, dark hair, long legs…_STOP IT_, he told himself firmly. _These are not the thoughts a Commander should be having about an Ensign. Hell, she can't be more than 24 or 25, nearly ten years younger than me. What is wrong with me? I'm a pervert, that's what. Yep. That's the only answer. I've been without a woman for way too long, and now I've crossed into deranged territory_. 

Strangely satisfied with that analysis, Trip stood up straight. Behind him, the door opened. _Crap_. He turned around. Hoshi was watching him with a…feral glint in her eye. He did a double take. Yeah, definitely feral. 

"Don't you like the movie?" she asked. She took a step towards him. He took two back. She grinned. 

"Movie's fine. Just remembered I, uh, was supposed to…be somewhere…" Trip's voice trailed off. She hadn't moved but he had the feeling she was closing in on him again. 

"That's too bad. I was actually thinking of going for a snack after this…I was hoping you'd join me, Charlie. Do you mind if I call you Charlie?" 

Trip decided to put up a strong front. He folded his arms across his chest and tried to look casual. "Um, sure." _Damn. Great, Tucker, very confident_. 

"Sure I can call you Charlie or sure you'd like to have a…snack… with me?" He lost his train of thought as he watched the way her mouth formed the word 'snack'. 

"What?" he asked, trying to focus again. 

Hoshi stepped very close to him. He held his ground this time. _Strong front_. She tilted her head to the side and smiled sweetly, looking up into his face. "I asked you if you're hungry, Charlie." 

Trip swayed forward just a little…and Travis and Malcolm burst through the door behind Hoshi. Both men had a hunted look in their eyes, but they stopped short when they saw the Commander standing inches from Ensign Sato. 

"Commander?" Malcolm barked. He seemed decidedly nervous. 

Trip jumped back, his gaze moving to the men. 

"We were just going for some exercise. Care to join us?" Travis said, voice unnaturally high. 

"God, yeah," Trip muttered. He did an about face and fell in with the scurrying men, leaving Hoshi standing. 

"I'll see you later," she called after him softly. 

_Cold shower_, he thought. _Exercise and then a nice, long, icy shower_.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

See earlier chapters for disclaimer.

****

The next morning, Trip entered the lift to go to the bridge. Just as the door closed, a hand popped in and blocked it from shutting. To his relief, the hand belonged to Jon, not Hoshi. 

"Good morning," Jon said cheerfully. 

"Mornin'." He'd reserve his opinion on the 'good' part. 

"You feeling ok?" Jon asked him as the door closed again. The lift started to move.

"Yeah. It's just…have you noticed anything, well, weird about some of the crew?"

"What do you mean?"

Trip could feel his face getting red, and he avoided Jon's gaze. "Well, some of the women. Do they seem a little, I don't know, aggressive?" he asked, looking at the doors with great interest.

Jon turned to face him. "For example?"

Trip faced him so quickly that the Captain started. Trip talked fast as it burst out of him. "Well, Hoshi is…chasing me. And the really weird thing is that I can't get her outta my head. I think about her all the time. And not the kinda thoughts that are fittin' to a commanding officer, if ya know what I mean."

Jon's face showed stern concern. "Trip…"

"It's not jus' me, Cap'n. Last night, me an' Malcolm an' Travis all but got chased out of the movie by Hoshi and some of the other women."

"And you're telling me that these crewmembers…that _Hoshi_," Jon said with a laugh, "is pursuing you? Trip, that sounds a little farfetched, don't you think? _Hoshi_?"

Trip was ready to argue but the lift had stopped. The doors opened to reveal Hoshi and T'Pol standing close together near the lift. The women raised their heads in unison and pinned Trip and Jon with their gazes. Hoshi smiled.

Jon and Trip each took a step back. They stood staring until the door started to close on them, snapping Jon's attention back. He squared his shoulders and caught the door, stepping onto the bridge. Trip followed behind, doing his best to keep Jon between him and Hoshi. Her eyes stayed on him while he hurried over to Malcolm's station.

T'Pol moved to intercept Jon. She stood close enough to whisper to him. Instead, she said in a normal tone, "We will be arriving at our destination in twenty-six hours."

Safe behind Malcolm, Trip paid half a mind to his work while keeping an eye on the bridge. While he watched, Jon eased himself around T'Pol and went to stand beside his chair. She was looking at the Captain expectantly. 

"Great," Jon said. "Can't wait."

She stepped up and held out a data PADD. "I have taken the liberty of reviewing some of the customs of the Rashila people. I have compiled an appropriate list of crewmembers for a landing party."

Jon reached out to take it. Before relinquishing it, she placed her other hand on his wrist as if to steady herself. Trip's eyebrows involuntarily rose so high he suspected they might have disappeared into his hairline. He glanced at Malcolm and found the Lieutenant discreetly watching T'Pol and the Captain as well.

Meanwhile, the Captain appeared to be staring at T'Pol's mouth as she continued. "I have also arranged for some of the crew to prepare suitable clothing for us."  

"I thought you said the Vulcans hadn't been in contact with these species," Jon said, curious. 

"No. But we have studied them from a distance. Our visit will indeed be the first contact for them." She tipped her head, staring up at him. Very softly she added, "Jonathon." 

Trip failed to suppress a little gurgle of surprise. It caught the Captain's attention, and Jon looked over at Malcolm and Trip. They immediately became engrossed in Malcolm's console.

"Commander," Jon said. "You have the bridge. Subcommander, I need to speak with you in my ready room."

He led the way, and T'Pol followed without comment. As they walked by Trip, the Commander held up one hand and wiggled one finger to remind Jon about the odd jewelry. Jon pretended not to notice.

Trip watched them disappear into the ready room. _'Bout time._ _Maybe we can start figuring this out._ The door shut and he faced forward again. His eyes met Hoshi's. She smiled. Her face was lit up, cheeks pink, eyes bright. She looked kind of…glowy.

His face flushed. But he felt compelled to smile back at her.

"Commander, I've been having some trouble with the UT for a few days. Could you take a look?"

His whole system went into hyperdrive—with the possible exception of his brain. With a huge grin plastered across his face, he walked over to her station.

**

In the Captain's ready room, Jon took a seat. He gestured for T'Pol to sit down across from him. To his surprise, and further unease, she did so without argument.

"T'Pol," he began, getting straight to the point, "have you noticed any unusual behavior among the crew?"

"Can you define unusual?"

Now Jon felt embarrassed. "Well…among some of the women crewmembers. You yourself, for instance, seem to be acting differently." At her inquisitive look, he tried to define it better. "You're wearing jewelry. You're allowing more physical contact than usual. T'Pol, you called me Jonathon. Twice." 

"Was that inappropriate?"

"On the bridge? Hell, yes. But you've never done it even privately. Why now?"

"As I said, I am attempting several human social customs. I have noticed that Commander Tucker sometimes uses your first name."

"Well, yes…"

T'Pol leaned forward in her seat, bringing her face very close to his.

"Would you prefer that I revert to using your title when I speak to you?"

Her body heat, as usual, was intense. But he had never found it this distracting before. He broke eye contact with her. "No, of course not. But when we are on duty, call me 'Captain'."

"Of course, Captain," she said. If he didn't know better, he would have said her tone was mocking. He stood up and she mirrored his action, so that they stood inches apart. He looked down into dark eyes. Again, he saw just a hint of emotion, one that he couldn't name.

"T'Pol," he started.

"Yes, _Captain_?" She reached up and ran her hand across his shoulder, as if to brush away dust. Part of his mind registered that this was a strange action for her to take, but the dominant part was nearly overcome with a desire to slide his hands over her body and pull her to him.

"May I go?" She startled him with her question. And because he suddenly didn't trust himself with her, he nodded. She turned and left. 

Jon stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath and slow his heart rate_. Think about the next mission…_ Once the heat in his body had cooled, he strode back onto the bridge.

The first thing he saw was his Chief Engineer wrapped around his Communications Officer. He had her bent back over the console, for God's sake, and she was responding in kind, hands all over him. Malcolm and Travis were gaping at the pair speechlessly; T'Pol was nowhere in sight.

"COMMANDER!" Archer roared. He was horrified by Tucker's behavior—partly because of how close his own thoughts had strayed to similar actions moments before.

Trip was out of Hoshi's grasp before Archer could blink. Face fire-engine red, the Commander looked even more shocked than Jon felt. "I'm sorry," Trip gasped. "I don't…I'm sorry." He was apologizing to everyone in the room.

Flabbergasted, Jon bought himself some time. "Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato, return to your duties. I want to see you both in my ready room when this shift is over."

"Aye, sir," they answered. Tucker's voice was confused—Hoshi only sounded satisfied.

Jon stumbled back into his ready room. It wasn't until he was seated again that he realized that T'Pol had never answered his question about the female crewmembers.

**

Jon sat in his ready room, rubbing his eyes. 

The entire day had been a disaster, starting with the weird conversation with T'Pol. During the course of the shift, he'd had to chase Ensign Cutler away from Malcolm's post twice—the second time, Malcolm nearly followed her off the bridge before Jon intervened. 

After Travis didn't come back from lunch, Jon had stopped in the Mess Hall for a sandwich and found him spooning pudding into Ensign Lourdes mouth. They were so wrapped up in each other that Jon had been forced to call them three times before either noticed him. At which point Lourdes smiled sweetly and Travis bolted like a rabbit. 

To top the day off, T'Pol had reappeared on the bridge two hours before the shift ended. Jon instantly lost all track of what the crew was doing, his thoughts completely centered on her and the way her skin was glowing. Damn, that uniform fit her well.

He briefly remembered himself when Trip came skulking out of the lift behind T'Pol, eyes on Hoshi. The Commander stepped out cautiously before he glanced over and made eye contact with Jon. One look from the Captain, and he just stepped back into the lift, letting the door close behind him. Before it shut, Hoshi wiggled her fingers at him and winked.

Jon promptly forgot to reprimand her when T'Pol walked past, brushing against him. His skin tingled and blood rushed to inappropriate places. He beat a hasty retreat to his ready room, where he hid for the remainder of the shift, doing his best to not think about T'Pol…not her legs…not her lips…not the way she looked with decon gel rubbed all over her bare skin…_Dammit._

His door rang, a welcome distraction. Knowing whom it would be, he said, "Enter," and stood to wait.

Trip sidled past him, quickly moving behind the desk. Hoshi sashayed in next, startling Jon. She looked like sex personified, yet exactly the same. Both men flushed and looked at each other. 

Trip mouthed, "See?"

Clearing his throat, Jon nodded at them both and jumped right into it.

"I understand that we have been on this ship a very long time," he said. T'Pol's image darted through his mind. He squashed the thought and continued. "But what happened on the bridge today was _completely_ inappropriate. Unbelievably inappropriate. So far out of the bounds of appropriate…"

"We get your point, Cap'n," Trip interrupted.

Jon wheeled on him, snapping, "I'm not sure you do, Commander. I can't believe there's even a need for me to have this conversation, but obviously there is." He paused and added, "If you two are going to become involved, you're going to have to show some discretion."

He looked back at Trip. The Commander was smiling at Hoshi now. They were both slowly moving toward the other. Jon stuck out his hand, stopping Trip's progress.

"Throwing people over consoles isn't what I would describe as discreet, COMMANDER." Jon raised his voice again.

Trip looked sheepish. He focused his gaze on a spot just beyond Jon's ear.

Jon turned to Hoshi, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of 'am I making myself clear?'.

Her gaze flitted past him, and she actually leaned around him to look at Trip. She smiled. Seeing them look at each other that way reminded him of T'Pol. Immediately he felt guilty.

Aloud, he said, "So what do you two think we should do about this problem?"

Hoshi looked back at him, saying, "I'm sorry for any disturbance this caused, Captain. Perhaps you should speak to Subcommander T'Pol about disciplining us." Her eyes gleamed with amusement.

Jon flushed. He could have sworn that she just read his mind. He attempted to regain control of the conversation.

"Maybe so. Until then, the two of you are confined to quarters." He looked back at Trip for confirmation but he was watching Hoshi's chest. 

Jon sighed loudly.

"Hoshi, I want you to see Dr. Phlox as soon as you leave here. Have him take a good look at you _and _that ring." 

"Yes, sir," Hoshi answered.

"Fine. You're dismissed. And stay away from each other for now. Are we clear?" 

Trip came out of his daze long enough to nod, and Hoshi walked out, the door swishing behind her.

Trip turned with a groan and banged his head on the window. 

Jon walked over, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "We'll get through this, Trip. Hopefully." 

Trip lifted his head and glared. "What do you mean, we?"

"Nothing," Jon said quickly, jumping back from his friend. "Now, I believe you're supposed to be in your quarters."

To his relief, Trip only nodded and left, plainly lost in his own thoughts.

***

"Charlie."

Trip mumbled in his sleep, releasing his dreams reluctantly. All night since returning to his cabin, his subconscious had treated him to a lengthy display of Hoshi's assets. Hoshi in her uniform, Hoshi in red silk, Hoshi out of red silk. Soft skin. He had never had such distinct dreams—he could even taste her skin—slightly salty, slick with sweat. 

Eyes closed, he moaned.

"Charlie…"

The whispering was starting to draw him out now. But in his dreams, Hoshi was tracing his lips lightly with her tongue. She tasted like cinnamon toothpaste.

He sighed and grudgingly opened his eyes. At which point he realized that the weight on his chest wasn't a dream—no more than the taste of cinnamon toothpaste. Hoshi Sato was stretched out beside him in his bunk, leaning over his chest and carefully tasting his mouth.

A part of him was startled, but not enough to pull back right away. His hands trailed up her body and he kissed her back softly. He'd thought about this almost from the time he'd met Hoshi, in the very back of his mind. Watched her mouth pronounce an unusual word or smile or frown in annoyance. She had such full lips—what would they feel like against his mouth…or other places? The thought would sneak up on him, before he had a chance to filter it out. 

Now that he had his answer, all he could think was _damn_, and try not to whimper with pleasure. Out loud, anyway.

She leaned back after a minute and he blinked at her sleepily. Reality was starting to sharpen again; the borders between dreams and life coming back up. "What're you doing in here?" he asked huskily, more curious than upset.

She smiled, shifting against him. "I needed to see you. Couldn't let you forget about me."

Trip laughed. "Right. I don't think you have to worry 'bout that." He stroked her back while he talked. He couldn't see the color, but she was definitely wearing something silky.

Even in the dim light, he could see her smile. "Good," she said simply. She slid one leg over his legs.

He liked the way her scent—cinnamon, soap, Hoshi—mixed with the familiar smell of his quarters. He really liked what she was doing to his bare chest with her mouth. And he was having a hard time remembering why this was so wrong…

He pulled her up so that she settled over the length of his body, and kissed her. Her weight felt just right. Her hair tickled his face and he used one hand to catch it and push it back over her shoulders, surprised at how heavy it was. Hoshi kissed him back deeply, seeming to relish his taste as much as he did hers.

He was practically panting when she pushed back, smiling down at him. 

"I have to go."

Instantly Trip was embarrassed. He sat up, forcing Hoshi to scoot off of him and down to the end of the bed. "You're right…I'm sorry, Hosh, I shouldn't have…"

He paused and looked at her, smiling at him. He couldn't stop himself from saying, "Don't go."

"It isn't time yet, Charlie." 

Trip rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. "Then why are you here?"

She glanced away, hesitated. "I wanted to see you. I like to be with you. I like _you_."

The shyness in her response was closer to the old Hoshi then anything she'd said to him in the last 24 hours, and he was unsure of how to answer.

She didn't wait for him to reply. She stood up and walked towards the door. Trip jumped out of bed, hurrying to catch her arm. She turned back to face him willingly. 

"Hoshi, do you know what's going on? Is this about us or somethin' else? The rings?"

She shrugged, smiling at him the way she might if he'd asked if she'd wanted eggs for breakfast, instead of what suddenly seemed like the most important question of his life.

"Both." She stood on tiptoed and drew his head down for a kiss that got his body humming again. Releasing him, she said, "I'm glad it's you. I wanted it to be you."

"What…"

"Good night, Charlie." She took three steps and was out of his door.

He could've gone after her. He didn't, because he was unexpectedly afraid to ask the questions swimming in his head. Finding out the truth would be the first step in setting things back the way they were. Trip just wasn't sure if he wanted to do that anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See earlier chapters! 

**** 

Jon walked the halls aimlessly, too excited to sleep. He kept telling himself it was because of the new planet, but his hormones disagreed. The dream he once had of T'Pol in decon had returned with a vengeance. He had gone to work out but had come across Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Cutler in a…compromising position. Reed had scurried out of the gym, not meeting Jon's eyes. Cutler had winked as she went by. Jon had been so surprised that he didn't even think of reprimanding her. He had then headed in the direction of the mess hall. He stuck his head in to see if anyone was awake. It was empty, but he decided to get a glass of warm milk. "Milk, warm." 

Glancing behind him, he looked out at the stars. His father would be pretty happy for him, exploring new worlds, experiencing things no human ever had. Like Vulcan females…Jon shook his head to clear it again, going back to less disturbing thoughts. He walked over to the window, thinking how much he enjoyed working with this crew, being the first Captain. I am a lucky man. He smiled at the thought. 

The mess doors swished open and T'Pol stepped in. She was wearing her blue, silky, very clingy pajamas. 

"I am a stupid, stupid man," he said, moving behind the table. 

T'Pol arched an eyebrow at him, moving toward the drink dispenser. Picking up the glass, she walked to the table he stood at, standing opposite him. 

"You may be impetuous at times, Captain. But I would never refer to you as stupid." 

Jon slowly moved around the table, watching her warily. 

"Is everything alright, Jonathan?" T'Pol said, handing him his glass of milk. Her hand wrapped around his wrist when he reached out to take the glass, and the milk fell to the floor. 

His breath picked up, shocked by her heat, again. Staring at her hand, he followed the arm to her chest. 

"Jonathan," she whispered. She moved forward. Jon stepped back, his knees bumping into the seat behind him. He collapsed into it. T'Pol moved in between his legs. 

"The milk…" he said pointlessly. 

Jon's eyes became focused on the waist of her pajamas. They had slipped down to reveal a peak of her hipbone. She was still holding his hand and she sank to her knees before him. 

"Are you having trouble sleeping, Jonathan?" 

He watched her mouth, and found himself leaning forward to look closer. 

"Yes, a little trouble sleeping, Subcommander." 

"T'Pol," she said. 

"What?" he said distractedly. 

"Call me T'Pol, Jonathan," she said, leaning into him. She brushed her cheek against his, and lightly kissed him. She slowly moved her lips, delicately sliding them down his cheek to his mouth. He melted into her, deepening the kiss. She brought her hands up, to run them into his hair. He groaned, pulling her tighter against him. 

"Fascinating." 

Jon and T'Pol looked up to find a smiling Dr. Phlox. Jon stood up quickly, knocking over the chair, his face flaming red. T'Pol rose with her usual quiet grace. 

"I do not believe a human has ever attempted a relationship with a Vulcan. I know you are physically capable of relations, but very different. Vulcans are generally narrower through the hips than most human women. The size of Captain Archer's appendages indicates a medium to large..." 

"Doctor," Jon said pleadingly. 

Phlox blinked. "Yes, Captain?" 

"Never say anything about my appendages again. That's an order." 

Phlox frowned, but nodded. 

Jon looked down at T'Pol, who was gazing up at him, almost leaning on him. He was nearly lost again. He stepped away and headed for the door. T'Pol followed. 

Phlox said, "Captain? Would it be possible for me to…" 

"No," Jon and T'Pol said in unison, walking out the door. 

They walked to the lift stepping in, brushing against each other. Jon stepped to the back of the lift, facing her. 

"Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?" 

She rubbed her hand against her stomach, absently pushing her shirt up. 

Jon leaped forward, pulling the shirt back into place. 

"No, I think you've done enough," he said as the lift doors opened. He walked quickly to his quarters, entering the code and shutting the door behind him. 

Porthos looked up from his pillow. 

"Don't look at me like that. I'm still just a man." 

Porthos whimpered and sank back down again. 

****

The next morning, Jon was preparing for his shift when T'Pol's voice rang out over the comm. "T'Pol to Captain Archer." 

Jon eyed the com suspiciously before reaching for the button. "Go ahead." 

"We have arrived at our destination. We are receiving hails from the service." 

"On my way." All business now, Jon hurried to the bridge. As he stepped out of the lift, he nodded to Hoshi, indicating that she should open the channel. He walked quickly towards the screen. To his surprise, it remained black. 

"Audio only, sir," Hoshi explained before nodding her 'go ahead'. 

"This is Captain Jonathon Archer of the Starship Enterprise. We are on a mission to explore new worlds and cultures. We were hoping that you might be interested in an exchange of information." 

"Welcome, Captain!" A male voice rang out over the bridge. It had a warm, melodious quality that instantly made Jon feel friendly towards these people. Glancing at the smiles around him, he realized that the impression was unanimous. "My name is Larn. We are happy to make your acquaintance. Please allow me to extend an invitation to join us on the surface." 

Jon grinned. Few cultures seemed to be pleased to see his ship arrive in their orbit. This is more like it. "Thank you. As soon as I can arrange a landing party, we will depart. If you could just give us the coordinates so that we know where to land…" 

"I'm transmitting them now, along with a few other items. I'm afraid we have certain requirements for our visitors—clothing, number of people, and so on. Unfortunately, we are quite strict about them." 

"Understood." Seeing that Hoshi was already receiving the data, Jon walked over her console, reading over her shoulder. The information was almost verbatim what T'Pol had given him the day before. 

"Well, Larn, I'm looking forward to meeting you. We'll be on our way as soon as we can put together a landing party. I'll contact you when we are ready to depart." 

Expecting Hoshi to end the transmission, Jon turned to speak to T'Pol. 

Instead, Larn responded in a confusing manner. "Excellent, Captain. But I see no reason for delay—isn't the landing party already prepared? We are eager for your arrival." 

Jon paused, still smiling. "Actually, we did have a landing party arranged, but I'm going to be making some last minute changes to it…but how did you know we had something put together?" 

Larn laughed. "Captain, there won't be any need to make changes to the landing party. A quick change of clothes and you can come straight away." 

Jon stopped smiling when Hoshi and T'Pol stood up from their posts and walked to the lift. "T'Pol? Hoshi?" 

Hoshi smiled at Jon. As the lift door closed, she called, "We'll meet you in the shuttlebay, sir." 

Jon whirled around to the men on the bridge. From the looks on their faces, they were as confused as him. 

"Larn, do you mind telling me what is going on?" 

"We have need of you, Captain. But don't worry," he added reassuringly, "it is only temporary. Your crew will be restored to their usual selves after the ceremony." 

"Ceremony? Are you telling me you've done something to my crew?" Jon demanded. 

"Only some of them…I believe you'll see their names on your landing party list. Your science officer was very thorough. We are extremely impressed with your crew—I believe this will be the most enjoyable Col'Wic we have ever experienced." 

Jon rushed to Hoshi's station, leaning down into the comm. "Now you listen to me. There won't be any…Col'Wic and my crew isn't going anywhere until I know what's going on." 

"Captain…" Malcolm interrupted. Jon looked at him angrily. "Sir, Shuttlepod Two has just left Enterprise. There are nine life signs aboard." He sighed as he took in the readings. "Eight human, one Vulcan." 

Larn chuckled. "I might as well save us all some time. They are the nine females who are wearing our rings, Captain. Now gather the men on the list, dress yourselves appropriately, and come down to the planet. Once the ceremony is over, we will be happy to let you take your crew and go." 

"I will not…" Jon stopped when he saw that the transmission had been cut off. 

"Sir?" Travis questioned. 

Jon leaned over the console for a few minutes, eye closed, thinking. Then he stood and looked at Travis and Malcolm with a sigh. "Malcolm, make the arrangements for the landing party. I want everyone armed. It looks like we're going visiting." **** 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ok, y'all, here's where the 'R' rating comes in (lovin' and language). Consider yourselves warned! 8^)

Disclaimer: See earlier chapters! 

****

The crammed shuttlepod was quiet for most of the ride down to the surface. The Captain had given the men their instructions—protect the female crew at all costs. That included being complete gentlemen until this was all over. Now they were silent, shifting uncomfortably in the alien clothes. Each man was distracted by the personal investment he felt for one of the female crewmembers. 

The closer they got to the surface, the faster Trip's pulse ran. Frustration swirled inside of him, and he was having trouble thinking clearly. All he could think about was Hoshi. Was she safe? Would she be waiting for him? Even if she was, he had to refuse her—he just wasn't sure if he could or wanted to. A glance around the pod showed similar conflicts in each man's face. 

As Travis prepared to land, Trip snapped—wrestling furiously with the open red shirt he was wearing. "Shit," he barked. "This thing is so damn small I can't even get it to wrap around my middle." 

"I'm just glad the pants are somewhat comfortable," Malcolm said. Like Trip and the other crewmen, he was wearing the loose gray pants and open shirt that had been demanded by Larn. All of the shirts were either red or black; Malcolm was wearing black. 

Trip glared over at him. "Yeah, well, they might be baggy, but that almost makes me feel worse. Nothin' but this drawstring holdin' 'em up." 

Jon ignored them. As the shuttle settled on the ground, he said, "Ready?" 

The crewmen nodded. 

"Fine. Just follow my lead for now." Jon opened the hatch. After leaning out and looking around cautiously, he climbed outside. 

Trip followed him. Outside, the humidity hit him like a solid wall; a fine sheen of moisture formed over his skin almost instantly. He stepped down into sand; as expected, he could hear an ocean nearby. They had arrived during this part of the planet's night. The surface was almost completely dark, except for a large glow to their left. The source was hidden behind the dunes of sand. 

Trip moved to stand between Jon and Malcolm. They were watching the light. "Guess that's where we're headed," Trip said. Water was beading on his skin; apprehension pounded in his brain. Where the hell is Hoshi? 

Jon nodded grimly and they all started walking over the sand. Trip and Jon led the way, with Malcolm and Travis only slightly behind, cautiously watching for possible attack. The other five crewmen followed carefully. 

As they grew closer to the light source, Trip and Jon exchanged a look, and climbed the final dune. At the crest, they paused. The other men came up behind them, moving until they stood nine in a row, taking in the scene before them. 

A large, perfect ellipse of sand had been flattened so that it resembled marble—completely solid and unforgiving. Scattered throughout the circle in a rolling pattern were small fires. Each individual fire would periodically flare—Trip thought it might be in a specific pattern, but the system was so elaborate that he wasn't certain. Beyond the circle, the ocean rolled in toward the beach. 

The missing female crewmembers were in the midst of the fires. The women were clothed in translucent wraps of material of varying shades. A single length of cloth was wrapped around their upper bodies, winding round their necks and backs, crossing in the front to cover their chests. A similar style of wrapping formed snug, low-draped skirts that were secured by ornate pins just below their navels. 

Trip's eyes sought Hoshi—he found her in the center, dressed in cloth that shimmered between red and purple. Her hair was loose, and it flew around her as she danced to music he couldn't hear, copying the sensual movements of the other women. Her skin glistened. His need to join her was almost overwhelming. 

To his right, Trip felt Malcolm shift impatiently. 

On his left, Jon breathed, "Trip…" 

Dragging his eyes slowly away from Hoshi, he turned to look at the Captain. Jon was watching the sky. Trip turned his face upward. Enormous, multi-colored lights were appearing above the women, blinking into existence at an alarming rate. First dozens, then hundreds of them. Looking between the women and the sky, Trip could see that the lights were matching their movements to the women. 

"Captain…" he said. 

"I see it. And look around. There's no one else here. Where are the Rashila?" 

"Sir," Malcolm said. "I think we might be looking at the Rashila." 

Trip glanced up again, surprised. He exchanged a look with Jon, and asked, "What now?" 

Jon looked at him. "I don't think we have any choice but to go down there. You all know your orders." 

Jon leading, they started toward the circle, sliding in the sand. 

Trip's body was flashing hot as he got closer to Hoshi. She gave no indication that she was aware of his presence. None of the women did. 

The crewmen began to spread out. One moment Trip was hanging back, eyes on Hoshi, the next he found he had moved to stand almost opposite her position. At the edge of the ellipse, he paused. Hoshi's eyes suddenly met his, glimmering in the firelight. Momentarily her smile was for him. When she turned away, falling back into her silent dance, he felt the absence keenly. He stepped into the circle. 

Instantly he heard drums throbbing, an almost impossibly fast beat. The sound assaulted him; he whipped his head around to the other men. Across the circle, Malcolm nodded to acknowledge that he heard it too. 

Trip faced Hoshi again. She was still dancing, so fast that he wondered she hadn't exhausted herself. His eyes widened when she and T'Pol slid together briefly and used each other for support, arms brushing on skin. 

Trip swallowed. I didn't know Hoshi could bend that way. 

Still torn between reason and need, he glanced again at Jon on his left; the Captain's eyes were on T'Pol. 

Above their heads, the dancing lights were moving so fast they were hard to distinguish. They started to swoop lower; soon they were winding in and out among the women. 

Hoshi laughed as a pink sphere coiled around her, starting at one ankle and spiraling up her body until it slipped beyond her extended fingertips, blowing her hair out as it passed. 

The women moved faster and faster, spinning, twisting together. Those damn drums, Trip thought. They were beating so hard he could feel his heart pound in time. And where the hell are they coming from? 

Jon suddenly shouted out in a strangled voice, startling Trip. "LARN! I want to talk to you, dammit! We will NOT be a part of this ritual!" 

In response, the balls of light began to expand the area they were occupying, moving to the edge of the circle to brush against the men. Trip's skin tingled everywhere they touched, but it was only a split-second sensation. After the first time, he barely noticed. He was only aware of Hoshi. 

The music changed, slowing to a sensuous pulse in place of the pounding beat. The women separated, moving out in an ever-widening circle. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Jon, Trip felt his friend stiffen. Following Jon's gaze, he saw why—T'Pol was coming toward them very deliberately. Her eyes were fixed on Jon, gleaming possessively. 

Uncomfortable, Trip turned away. He stood up straight when he saw Hoshi watching him, walking slowly in his direction. As she got closer, Trip forgot about his friend and took several steps back, trying to keep space between him and Hoshi. 

Her stomach was completely exposed by her outfit. He could see the muscles move, drawing his eyes downward. He brought them back up quickly, embarrassed by his reaction to her. 

She's not herself, he reminded himself firmly. She got close enough for him to catch her scent on the air. Damn. 

"Dance with me, Charlie." She slipped around him, hair brushing about his body, touching his face as if it acted separately from her. He closed his eyes, jaw clenched. In his ear, she laughed. Her hands trailed over him, across his shoulders, down over his stomach. When they curved, lightly grasping, over his buttocks, his eyes popped open again. 

"Stop it, Hoshi," he said, trying desperately to sound angry, bored, anything that wouldn't betray the images that were flitting through his mind. 

She stopped curving around him. The drums still pounded out a rhythm. He looked over her head, conscious of the other male crewmembers. 

Hoshi leaned into him, her body pressing into his from thigh to chest. His body temperature rose several degrees—along with a few other things. Hoshi laughed again. 

Truly angry now, he glanced down into her face. The hair around her face was damp; so was the expansive amount of chest that her outfit revealed. Her lips, lifting in a smile, glistened red. And her gaze was fixed on his mouth. He swallowed again. 

His mouth parted just slightly of its own accord. Hoshi moved her eyes back up to meet his. The smile fading, she said, very softly, "Please, Charlie." 

His resolve was gone. He slammed his mouth down onto hers. She growled in the back of her throat, and he was shocked by the primal response he felt. He couldn't hold back; not even in front of all of these other people. He moved his hands everywhere, pushing aside her filmy clothes to get to the hot, damp skin underneath. 

She had her own hands inside of his clothes, pushing his arms back while she yanked off the shirt. He resented the break in contact for even that second. When his arms were free again, Trip kissed her deeply, trying to force his way closer. He was pressing so hard he knew he had to be hurting her. Seeming to read his thoughts, she dug her nails into his back. He felt his flesh tear a little and pushed her down into the sand. 

She gasped and pressed upward with her hips, wrapping her legs around him. His head was spinning with her scent, the texture of her skin and the sand. He tasted her neck, his lips moving lower while she pulled at his trousers. 

"Commander!" Jon's voice snapped him back. He whipped his head around to blink at the Captain. Jon was doing a better job of avoiding his temptress. T'Pol was softly fingering the Captain's ears and face, making a purring sound as she pressed against him. Jon kept his head turned away, focusing on Trip. 

"Trip, we can't do this. This isn't what they really want. We're all being controlled by an outside influence." He stared at Trip sternly. T'Pol whispered something to him; he closed his eyes briefly before looking back at the Commander. "Don't, Trip. That's an order." 

"Aye, Cap'n." Trip nodded earnestly. Beyond Jon, he could see that the other crewmen were losing their own battles. "You're right," he added hoarsely. Aware all the time of Hoshi's heat, her legs around him. She moved against him; he closed his eyes and tried to ease back. 

"No." She said it matter-of-factly. "He's wrong. This is what we need. It's what we want." 

He moved away from her; she sat up and followed him. Without the heat of her body around him he was inexplicably cold, regardless of the humidity. 

She leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm, her gaze just inches from his. "Come with me," she said. He shook his head a little, but he was completely entranced by her face. She touched the side of his face, so that he raised his eyes to hers. Her gaze was intense…but also familiar. She whispered, "I promise you, Charlie. I won't regret it later." 

Hoshi kissed him then, not touching him anywhere else but his cheek. Her mouth was warm, soft, and she tasted of ocean salt. 

He reminded himself of his duty. 

She sighed a little in his mouth. 

Fuck duty. 

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet. They walked quickly across the dunes of sand, stumbling slightly, until they were out of range of Jon's voice calling after them. 

Alone, they dropped back down into the sand. She smiled at him, and he returned her smile this time, before she pulled his mouth back to hers. In seconds he was panting with his need for her. He tore at her clothes and his own, their hands interfering with each other as they tried to eliminate that final barrier. He wanted to laugh at how clumsy they suddenly were, but then the clothes were gone and he forgot about laughing. 

They both cried out at the feeling of each other. He kissed her again. He heard the ocean behind them and her breath coming in soft little moans. One of his hands was buried in sand; the other arm held her close to him, tightening against her body and in her hair. Hoshi touched him everywhere, alternating soft brushes with bruising holds. 

When he finally felt her clench around him, gasping his name, he let go as well—his entire being focused just for a moment on the sensation pulsing through him. 

As it ended, he breathed again and fell against her, trying half-heartedly not to crush her. Their bodies were both slippery with sweat. Burying his face against her neck, he gradually caught his breath. Her pulse, throbbing against his cheek, slowed. 

Their skin was cooling and Trip's mind abruptly cleared. Instantly, he was terrified by his actions. When Hoshi was herself again, how would she forgive him for this? Trip raised his head and looked down at her. The sun was coming up now, and in the early gray light, he could see her features more clearly than ever. 

There were tears in her eyes, startling him. Something felt different. "Hoshi?" he whispered. She smiled tremulously and looked away. 

**** 

Jon called out to Trip, but it was obvious that the Commander had lost the battle. The other men seemed to have succumbed as well, most of them disappearing over the dunes with the women. Deciding to focus on the problem at hand, he looked down at T'Pol. Currently, she was rubbing her hand up and down his bare stomach, eyes fixed on his lips. 

"Jonathan." 

With that one word, Jon felt all his blood rush to his groin and his knees weaken. 

This is not her. 

Walking behind him, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to the back of his neck, licking the sweat that was forming there. Wrapping her hands around his waist, she leaned her body into his. She nibbled lightly at his skin, holding tightly when he tried to break away. 

"T'Pol. This is not what you want…" 

"I can smell your arousal, Jonathan," 

"Stop calling me that." His frustration was becoming more and more evident in his voice. Yanking himself forward suddenly, he broke free of her grip and turned to face her. 

"What would you like me to call you?" she murmured. 

"Captain," he ground out. 

She leaned forward almost but not quite pressing her lips to his. "Touch me, Captain." 

Jon took a deep breath and held it, deliberately looking past her. 

Taking his hand she pulled it up to her face. He glanced down. Looking him in the eye, she stuck her tongue out, tracing the palm. She carefully wrapped her mouth around his index finger, sucking. Jon let out his air with a puff and tried to pull away, but she held fast. 

"T'Pol, please…" He said it with every last bit of resistance he had. 

"Yes. Please." 

Jon's will slowly gave way. He leaned into a kiss, crushing her to him. He pulled her tightly against his body, and felt her legs wrap around him. She opened her mouth and he pushed his tongue in, groaning at how hot she felt. She tasted like tea, honey and heat. He lifted his hand to her breast, and she purred into his mouth. 

They collapsed into the sand, clutching each other. He rubbed his hands over her skin. She reached nimble fingers up, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. Jon almost shouted out loud when her hands caressed his chest. 

"I ache for you," T'Pol whispered into his mouth. 

Jon grunted because that was all he could manage. He was completely focused on her scorching heat. 

Still, a nagging doubt was working in his mind. 

He drug himself away from her, climbing heavily back to his feet. "T'Pol…we can't. We have to find out what's going on…speak to Larn." 

T'Pol stood gracefully, pressing herself to him. "I know what's happening. It's what we've wanted…now there is no reason to fight." She attempted to kiss him, but he avoided her mouth. 

She leaned back and looked into his eyes. Her lips were swelled, her cheeks flushed, and Jon was harder than he thought possible. She snagged his lower lip with her mouth and he groaned again. T'Pol draped herself around him, and he instinctively lifted her off of her feet. He began to walk with her wrapped around him toward the ocean. 

At the water's edge, Jon stopped and kissed her hard, looking into her face. There was so much emotion there that he almost didn't recognize her. 

What the hell? She smiled. 

Jon tightened his grip around her waist. She ground her hips into his and he sucked in air. He waded out into the water. Kissing her violently, he threw them both into the ocean. 

T'Pol sat up, sputtering water, and Jon crawled back to lie on the sand. 

"Not like this, T'Pol. Not like this." He sighed and laid his head back in the sand, shivering in his wet clothes, in spite of the heat. 

She struggled to her feet, knee deep in the water, and stared at him. Eyeing him carefully, she waded back to shore and knelt down beside him. 

"I said no, T'Pol." 

Instead of arguing, she looked over the water toward the sunrise, and slowly turned back around to Jon. She watched him quietly, not moving. 

He sat up and scrutinized her face. The smile was gone, replaced with the woman he knew. 

"It is over," she said flatly. Under his gaze, she ducked her head in a familiar gesture before meeting his eyes again. 

Jon smiled. Internally, he was torn between relief and crushing disappointment. 

"It's good to have you back, Subcommander." He stood up and offered his hand to her. After eyeing it cautiously, she took it and they walked back up the beach, hand in hand.

**** 

One by one, the couples made their way back to the circle in the faint light of dawn. 

Trip and Hoshi walked together silently. They had made a few awkward attempts to talk while they dressed, but neither of them knew what to say. 

When they returned, they found the Captain and Subcommander sitting side by side in the sand. Jon turned his gaze to them and they both flushed. Trip didn't know what to say, to anyone really. But seeing Hoshi's embarrassment, he took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. She gave him an odd look, but she didn't let go. 

As the other crewmembers gathered, Trip looked around. Travis and Ensign Lourdes couldn't take their eyes off of each other, seeming unaware of the others on the beach with them. Malcolm looked solemn when he met Trip's eye. Then he blushed more ferociously than Hoshi and glanced away. He didn't appear to mind that Elizabeth was leaning against him. 

Once everyone arrived, Jon stood up; T'Pol rising beside him. 

"T'Pol has just been filling me in on our…situation," Jon said. 

Trip glanced at Hoshi. She was watching the Captain, but without much anticipation. Trip realized she already knew what Jon was going to say. 

Instead of the clarification Trip was expecting, Jon said, "Right now, I'm tired. Since it seems that we won't be seeing our new acquaintances again, I think it's time we went home. We can save the explanations for later." 

Turning, Jon indicated for T'Pol to walk ahead of him. He didn't touch her, but his hand hovered near her elbow as the two of the climbed the first dune. The other crewmembers began to move in pairs toward the shuttlepods. 

Trip knew he should be frustrated by Jon's avoidance. Instead he felt…spent. Without protest, he turned to look at Hoshi. She was watching him. When his gaze met hers, she gave his hand a firm squeeze. 

Hand in hand, the two of them followed the rest of the group. 

****


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See earlier chapters! 

**** 

As the shuttlepods docked with Enterprise, Jon's voice hailed the pod that Travis was piloting. "Trip, you there?' 

Trip leaned up and pushed a button. "Go ahead, Captain." 

"The doctor says decon can't handle all of us at once. We're going to go in two shifts. My group will go first; the rest of you will have to wait in the hanger until we're done." 

"That'll still be pretty crowded," Trip pointed out. 

"I think we all want this to be over as soon as possible," Jon answered. "We'll go through first; Phlox will let you know when he's ready for the rest of you. 

"Understood," Trip said. 

The shuttles settled into their places, and Trip and his people watched as the group from Shuttlepod One, including Jon, T'Pol, and Malcolm, climbed out and entered decon. There were ten people in Jon's group, since none of the couples had opted to ride separately. Judging by their expressions as they passed SP2's windshield, their journey had been as hushed as the one Trip had just been on. 

After a few minutes of everyone looking awkwardly at the floor, he looked around the little craft. "Well, there's no since in stayin' in here like a bunch of sardines. Let's get out an' stretch our legs while we wait." 

Everyone started climbing out, spreading around the hanger. Travis moved forward quickly when Ensign Lourdes reached the door and took her elbow, helping her out. She smiled at him gratefully. 

Trip remained in his seat, waiting to go last. So did Hoshi. She had settled into a seat at the back of the shuttle. Now her gaze was fixed on Trip. He looked back at her silently. She seemed uncomfortable in the Rashila costume now, fidgeting with it for a moment. I know how she feels, Trip thought, giving his shirt a sympathetic tug. He had no idea what to say, and when she didn't speak, he stood, moving toward the door. 

"Wait." 

He felt a rush of adrenaline when she spoke, born of nerves and relief. He dropped back into his seat. 

Her voice husky, Hoshi said, "I owe you an explanation." 

Trip flushed with shame. "I wouldn't say that, exactly. But I would like to know what that was. It's all over now, right?" 

She nodded, chancing a quick glance at him. Whatever she saw in his face seemed to give her confidence. She sat up straight and continued in a stronger voice. 

"I just…well, first I want you to know that it was you, with me, for a reason. They…let me choose, in a way. It was you because I wanted it to be you." 

A little of Trip's tension drained. He didn't interrupt, for once content to just listen. 

"It was like…coexisting," Hoshi explained haltingly. "Sort of." She made a frustrated sound. "Not so much as we were possessed, though, as…influenced. The rings are a kind of amplifier for psychic energy." Trip's eyes automatically dropped to Hoshi's hands. She was still wearing the ring. "They gave the Rashila access to our desires and inhibitions. They knew everything that went on in my mind and vice versa—for a little while, it was like I was one of them." 

"Why? What the hell was that ceremony?" 

Hoshi slipped off the ring and started to twist it in her hands. She stared down at it. 

"A long time ago, the Rashila evolved beyond their physical forms…they didn't require them anymore. But a few of them wanted to hold on to the old ways—they found comfort in their bodies, especially the ability to touch." 

"Yeah, I could see that," Trip said, wryly. The entire story was a little hard for him to comprehend. How did an entire people just give up their physical form? The idea made him shudder. 

Hoshi continued. "Anyway, their solution was the Col'Wic. They distributed thousands of amplifiers in different forms, like these rings, around the universe. At the correct intervals, the amplifiers activate and seek out proper hosts. During the Col'Wic, the Rashila get to experience physical form again, for a short time. In the most intense form that the host race is capable of." 

Trip raised his eyebrows. "Intense is an understatement." As soon as the words passed his lips, he colored, privately damning his stupid mouth. 

Hoshi turned a corresponding fuchsia. "Yes. Well, it's over now. They're gone." 

"Hoshi, did they hurt you?" 

She smiled forlornly. "No, not exactly. Mostly I just feel relieved…and a little lonely. I have to get used to being all by myself in here again." 

That answer wasn't what he expected. Before he could come up with a response, Travis stuck his head inside the shuttlepod. The Ensign exchanged a compassionate glance with Hoshi before he looked at Trip. "They're ready for us, sir." 

"That was fast," Trip said. 

Travis just shrugged and pulled his head back out. Hoshi darted out the door after him, leaving a bewildered Trip in her wake. 

He followed slowly, filing into decon with the others. There would be no opportunity to continue their conversation while they were packed into the decontamination chamber with six other people, but it didn't matter. He needed to figure out what he wanted to say first, anyway. 

**** 

Once Phlox had completed his examinations of the men, Jon released them with orders to go to their quarters and rest. The women needed to remain and undergo more thorough exams while Phlox tried to determine if the rings had had any lasting effects. This announcement sent a rush of concern through all of the men. Trip was about to insist on staying when Phlox added, "I see no real reason for concern, gentleman. And having you here will only hamper my ability to treat them." 

A reasonable argument, but Trip still felt like he was abandoning Hoshi. Her dark eyes were locked with his as he was shoved out the door. He wasn't sure if her expression signaled regret or relief. 

After being shooed out of Sickbay with the other hovering men, Trip headed to his quarters. There he donned a fresh uniform, gratefully disposing of his costume, and went straight to Engineering. Despite what Jon said, he needed to be busy. 

He stayed there until he was exhausted—which didn't take long considering the day he'd had. The most draining part, though, was that all during the shift he had to endure the curious glances of his crew. News spread fast on a ship this size. 

His mother had always told him the fastest way to kill gossip was to ignore it and not give them anything to fuel the fire. Take the high road…or something like that. 

That was his plan. But after several hours of whispers and covert looks, combined with his private concerns about Hoshi, he had just about reached his limit. 

When he looked down from the second level and found three of his staff huddled together and talking in low voices, he lost his fragile grip on his temper. 

"Ok, that's it!" At the sound of his shout, the entire crew stopped what they were doing and looked at him. Hurrying down the stairs, Trip stalked toward the three offenders, shaking his finger in their surprised faces. "If you all have any questions about me and Ensign Sato, you can come right out an' ask me to my face. An' then I'll have the pleasure of tellin' you it's none a your business." 

The three crewmembers looked stunned. One of them, Ensign Sanchez, flushed. "Sir?" 

Hands on his hips, Trip snapped his neck toward her. "What?!" 

"I…we were discussing your designs for the core upgrade. I don't know anything about you and…Ensign Sato." She held up a data PADD for him to see. Warp core schematics. 

He stood there with his mouth hanging open, as if that would help him conjure up something intelligent to say next. Finally, aware of their frank appraisal, he closed his mouth and dropped his hands. He could feel the flush creeping upwards from his neck. "Um…carry on. I'm uh…I'm gonna take off for tonight. I'm a little tired…" 

He rushed past them, heading for the door. Carry on? Great save, Tucker. Halfway to the door, he heard quiet snickers. He stopped. So did the laughter. His brief hope that no one knew about what happened on the planet died with the sound of those giggles. Without turning, Trip closed his eyes briefly. Dropping his shoulders in defeat, he headed out of Engineering. 

He'd devise all sorts of small ways to make them pay later, he decided as he walked down the corridor. Despite his horrible mood, he felt a little better plotting to make others suffer. Kept his mind off of Hoshi… 

Damn. That lasted for about twelve seconds, Trip thought with a sigh. Twelve seconds and her image was right back in his mind. He had no idea what to do about her. Should he try to talk to her? Did she hate him? Supposedly this all happened because she'd been attracted to him—but did that mean she wanted anymore to do with him now that it was all over? Maybe she just wanted…temporary relief. 

Nah. That's not Hoshi…At least, he didn't think it was. Truth be told, he was realizing he didn't know much about that side of her personal life. He knew what her skin felt like and how her lips tasted—the memory made him break out in a sweat—but he had no idea what she might have been thinking while all of that was going on. 

And he really wanted to know. Needed to know. 

Pondering how he might find out, Trip rounded a corner and slammed right into the object of his distraction. 

"Oof!" He reached out and caught her shoulders to keep her from falling back. "You ok?" 

Hoshi looked up at him intensely. She was back in uniform too. "Yes. Are you?" 

Trip realized how close she was to him. Before his body could respond, he let go of her and took two steps back. "Fine." 

Catching her balance after his abrupt release, Hoshi said, "I was just coming to talk to you." 

Trip had been staring at his feet. He looked up fast, a tiny flame of hope lighting in his chest. "Oh yeah?" 

As soon as his gaze met hers, Hoshi looked down at her feet. She tucked her arms around her. Trip watched the top of her head. Even in the dull lighting of the corridor, her hair was shiny. 

"Yes," she said nervously. "Trip...I mean, Commander." She stopped, took a deep breath, and met his eyes again. "I mean…Trip. I wanted to apologize for involving you in all of this. And for my behavior. I hope you can forgive me." 

Trip looked at her seriously. "Hoshi, there's nothin' for me to forgive. I just hope you can forgive me. I shoulda had more willpower…I shoulda protected you, instead of takin' advantage." 

Hoshi shook her head. "You only did what I asked. And you were under the same influence as me…just slightly diluted." When he started to reply, she talked fast to stop him. "I actually have something else to ask you." 

He shut his mouth and waited, skin tingling with apprehension. 

She seemed to screw up her courage. Eyes dodging around the corridor, she blurted, "Trip, do you have feelings for me?" 

Trip blinked. His slow reaction caused her to rush on. "Because…the Rashila picked you for me for a reason. And I know this could get really awkward and weird and we could just tiptoe around each other for a long time and not really decide anything…but I was wondering…could we just skip that part? Maybe just…try it out, see where it leads? I mean, I know it might not go anywhere, and if you don't want to I totally understand..." 

"Hoshi!" Trip interrupted. "Breathe!" 

She stopped talking, a little out of breath. Her eyes flickered to his face. Trip took her hand lightly into his own. For a moment, the two of them stared blankly at their combined fingers. Trip brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, watching the contrast of his rough skin over her lighter, softer hand. 

"I want to," he said simply, his voice drawing her eyes back up to his. 

"Really?" she whispered, a smile starting. 

Trip used her hand to pull her forward until she was pressed chest to chest with him. He kissed her. It started as a soft kiss, but the feeling of a responsive Hoshi against his body had him seeking more. 

Murmuring low in her throat, Hoshi reacted by pushing him back against the wall. His hand slid down to her hips and he lifted her so that she stood on tiptoe, allowing him better access to her mouth. His heart was pounding as he slid his mouth along her jawline to her throat. Hoshi gasped and buried her fingers in his hair, arching into him. 

"Commander Tucker!" 

T'Pol's voice was like a bucket of cold water. They jumped apart, both wiping their mouths as subtly as possible. They turned as one to face the Subcommander. By now, Trip could identify her non-moods fairly well—she was currently repressing annoyance. 

"I was just on my way to see you, Commander," T'Pol said. 

"That seems t' be goin' around," Trip muttered. He was doing his best to stand behind Hoshi, at least until his physical state was a little less obvious. 

T'Pol just raised an eyebrow and continued with, "I am speaking with each of the eighteen crewmembers, to be certain that there are no lasting effects from our experience. Clearly, my concerns were not unfounded." She eyed Hoshi. 

Trip launched in. "Look, this is completely my fault. I take full responsibility. I just…couldn't help myself for a minute." He flinched as soon as he said it; he was fully aware of T'Pol's outlook on "couldn't help myself." 

"No, Subcommander," Hoshi said, giving Trip an annoyed look over her shoulder. Her face was bright pink. "I'm to blame. Commander Tucker tried to argue with me, but I…I wouldn't take no for an answer. 

"What?" Trip said incredulously. "I think I missed that part of the conversation." 

Hoshi ignored him, focusing on T'Pol. 

T'Pol looked between them. "Come with me." 

She turned on her heel abruptly. Shamefaced, Trip and Hoshi fell into step behind her. "We're going to see Phlox," T'Pol told them. "I want to know just how long we can expect to be suffering residual effects from the rings." 

"T'Pol…" Trip started, but Hoshi touched his arm and shook her head. Rolling his eyes dramatically, Trip fell silent again. They didn't talk again until they swung into Sickbay, T'Pol calling for Phlox. 

The doctor popped out of the backroom, cheerful smile in place. "Yes, Subcommander?" 

"Doctor, I understood you to say that there was no evidence of the alien influence remaining." 

"That is correct." 

"I believe you need to run more tests. I just came across Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato in a compromising position," T'Pol said briskly. "They are clearly still experiencing lingering effects." 

Phlox looked ecstatic. "Really? Please, Commander, Ensign, have a seat." 

Hoshi settled quickly onto a biobed. Making a point of sighing deeply, Trip reluctantly sat beside her. 

Phlox produced a scanner and the three of them waited silently while he carefully scanned both Trip and Hoshi. While he worked, he asked casually, "And what about you, Subcommander? Any residual effects for you?" 

"NO," T'Pol said quickly. 

Trip glanced up. "Sounds like the lady protests too much," he said dryly. "Is there some particular reason you're so curious about this?" 

T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back and ignored him. 

Phlox stepped back, lowering the scanner. 

"Well?" T'Pol asked. 

"They both have elevated heart rates and respiration. And an increased blood flow to their…" 

"DOC!" Trip yelped. Beside him, Hoshi buried her face in her hands. 

Phlox sighed. Clearly he didn't understand the many hang-ups humans had about their perfectly normal body functions. 

"I'm finding no evidence of Rashilan influence. Only normal sexual attraction between two adult humans." 

TPol opened her mouth. And closed it. She looked almost flustered. 

"See," Trip announced triumphantly, "I told ya." Being proven right over T'Pol was enough to temporarily suspend his embarrassment. 

Hoshi made a funny snuffling sound, drawing the attention of them all. Her face was still hidden away in her hands. 

Oh God, she's cryin', Trip thought, horrified. He looked frantically at T'Pol. She appeared to be extremely uncomfortable. No help there. 

"Great, T'Pol. Real nice," Trip snapped. He patted Hoshi's shoulder awkwardly. She made another noise. Her shoulders were starting to shake. 

T'Pol leaned in. "Ensign Sato, I apologize. There is no need to become upset." 

Trip frowned at her. 

Hoshi cracked her fingers enough to peek out at them. Her face was pink. Trip peered at her closely. The eye he could see sparkled at him. She made another noise—this one more of a squeaking sound. 

"Hoshi?" Trip said. 

She startled them all by dropping her hands and exploding with laughter. They stared at her, dumbfounded. 

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I just…this whole thing…all of us…" Laughter choked out anything else she might have said. She grasped onto Trip weakly, her body quaking. 

T'Pol looked at Trip as if expecting an answer for this odd behavior. 

Trip felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Hoshi was still trying to talk, and he made out the word "horny" in the midst of the gibberish. He snickered. Hoshi turned her face up to him. 

"Increased blood flow," he reminded her, and caught her when she shrieked and slipped halfway off the bed, clutching her middle. 

Trip's stomach muscles clenched. The bubble of laughter rising in chest burst out of him in great gasps, forming horsy sounds that just spurred Hoshi on. 

Her eyes were squeezed nearly shut, and tears were starting to leak down her florid cheeks. The only noise she made was a funny little clacking sound in the back of her throat, interrupted by the occasional gasp for air. 

The blank expression on T'Pol's face, next to the open fascination on Phlox's, only made it worse. 

Trip thought of how they must look to the non-humans—faces red, mouths stretched open, eyes squeezed shut, and shaking all over. He pointed at the Subcommander. Following his finger, Hoshi chortled. The two of them dropped against each other, both laughing soundlessly now. 

When Phlox said something about "nervous tension" and T'Pol calmly responded with "Agreed," Trip and Hoshi nearly fell off the bed together. 

"Stop…stop it," Hoshi begged no one in particular. Trip couldn't answer; he was clutching his aching sides and trying to breathe. 

They went on that way for five solid minutes. Every time one slowed down, the other would blurt "console…Captain's face" or "blood flow" and it would start all over again. 

Finally, Trip caught his breath enough to gasp, "Anythin' else, T'Pol?" 

T'Pol shook her head. "No," she said crisply. "You are dismissed. Carry on with what you were doing." 

This struck Hoshi as particularly funny and she fell into a fresh fit of giggles. Trip practically had to drag her to her feet so that they could leave. As they staggered out of Sickbay, Trip managed to toss "Thanks, Doc" over his shoulder. 

"My pleasure, Commander. In fact, I was wondering…" 

"Nope," Trip said. 

Phlox's disappointed sigh was nearly drowned out by the swish of the Sickbay doors. Trip and Hoshi stopped short at the sight of the Captain entering the room. 

He looked them up and down, taking in their red faces and disheveled appearances. "Everything ok here?" 

Hoshi had her face partially buried in Trip's arm while she tried to get control of her features. Trip nodded solemnly, answering for both of them. 

"Nervous tension." 

Hoshi made a choking sound. Jon eyed her with confusion. 

Before he could ask, Trip said, "G'night, Cap'n" in a strangled voice and rushed past him, Hoshi in tow. 

****


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See earlier chapters! 

**** 

Jon watched their backs disappear through the doors. Wherever they were headed, he thought they were in for a long walk if Hoshi planned to keep her face stuck to Trip's arm that way. He smiled to himself, shaking his head as he faced Sickbay again. 

His smile turned awkward at the sight of T'Pol. They hadn't spoken privately since they'd left the planet. 

"Subcommander," he said in greeting. She stiffened, which made Jon keep his distance. 

"Good afternoon, Captain," Phlox said from beside her. Jon hadn't even noticed him. 

"Doctor," Jon said, trying to concentrate on T'Pol. He tried to read her expression, but it was even more concealed than customary. 

"Something I can help you with?" Phlox asked, smiling widely. Jon glanced over at him and shook his head. 

"No, I was looking for my first officer," Jon said. 

"Well, it appears you found her," Phlox said cheerily. 

"Thank you, Doctor. I can see that." Jon stifled his irritation so as not to offend him. 

"I will return to the Bridge immediately, Captain," T'Pol said. Jon reached out a hand, grabbing her by the arm. She briefly met his eyes, then ducked her head. Jon inwardly sighed and dropped her arm. 

"That's not why I came. I was hoping…" Jon said. Looking up, he realized Phlox was still standing there, smiling at them both. Jon looked at him in frustration, but Phlox only broadened his smile. 

"Let's go out in the corridor," Jon said. 

They were stopped by the doctor's voice. "You know, these past few days have been simply fascinating. I've had the opportunity to observe countless human mating rituals. And to be present for the first Vulcan/Human mating…" Phlox paused, pondering. Jon and T'Pol stared at him blankly as he continued. 

"I don't believe it is possible for you to breed offspring, but the actual mating should present no problems. Although I would be more than happy to offer assistance should it be necessary," Phlox said, now smiling hopefully. 

Jon quickly grabbed T'Pol's elbow, trying to move them away from the doctor as quickly as possible. "Good night, Doctor," he tossed back. 

They stopped when they reached the hall outside Sickbay. 

"As I was saying, I was hoping we could talk," he said. 

T'Pol gave nothing away in her expression. 

"I have many duties to attend to, now is not the best time," she said. 

"It doesn't have to be now, it can be later. Maybe dinner?" Jon said hopefully. 

"Perhaps another time," T'Pol said. "As I said, I have much work to do. May I go back to my tasks?" 

Jon dropped his head and nodded. 

"Let me know when you have time," he said. 

T'Pol moved down the hall and stepped onto the lift without looking back. 

Jon turned around to find Phlox standing directly behind him, looking at him sympathetically. 

"May I have word, Captain?" the doctor asked. 

With a sigh, Jon nodded and followed Phlox into Sickbay. 

**** 

On the lift, Trip and Hoshi held onto the walls and each other. The second the Sickbay doors closed behind them, the laughter had hit them almost as hard as before, and they still hadn't stopped. Bent over with one hand on her knee, Hoshi clung to Trip's arm for support. Trip used his free hand to wipe the fresh tears on his cheeks. When Hoshi looked up at him, he reached down and did the same for her. 

Her laughter slowed to a few chuckles and she looked touched by the gesture. 

Grinning, Trip leaned down and kissed her. Hoshi sighed softly, letting her body sink against his. 

The lift door opened and they looked up to see two startled crewmen. 

Hoshi and Trip jumped apart, flushing. Although their experience was probably common knowledge by now, it was still kind of embarrassing to be caught in the act. Particularly when you're the Commander, Trip thought. The two of them stepped out into the corridor. Instead of going onto the lift, the crewmen continued to stand and stare. 

"She, uh, had something…you know, in her eye." The crewmen looked doubtful, so Trip turned to Hoshi for support. "Right, Ensign?" 

Hoshi nodded emphatically. "Yes. In my eye." She looked very serious for about two seconds, and then giggled. By Trip's way of thinking, that took away a lot of the believability of his excuse. And they were on shaky ground to start with. 

The crewmen smirked. 

Trip gave up. "Don't you men have somewhere to be?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Well, good. Thought maybe you had a little too much time on your hands, needed me to find somethin' for you to do." Trip glared. 

"No, sir." The men just stood there. 

"Well, GET ON WITH IT," Trip said, and they scattered. 

As the crewmen rounded a corner, Hoshi grinned at Trip. "Come on." 

Trip smiled, the crewmen forgotten as he followed her to her cabin. At the door, Hoshi paused long enough to twine herself completely around him and give him a thorough kiss. Turning him around, she reached behind him to key in her code without breaking the kiss. He allowed himself to be drug through the door. He had all but one foot inside when he let go of her so suddenly that she almost fell. 

"Wait." 

"What is it?" Hoshi asked. She blinked at him as if she was having trouble focusing. 

He waited patiently until her eyes cleared. "I just…I was thinking maybe we should talk 'bout all of this, before…you know." 

Hoshi stared at him so long that he started to squirm. Finally, she said, "Ok." 

She sat down on her couch and gestured for him to join her. He sat gingerly on the edge of the seat. Resting his elbows awkwardly on his knees, he faced her. She was watching him expectantly. 

"Ok…I'll start," Trip said after a pause. "Look Hosh, I just thought we should get everythin' out in the open, right now. You know, what we're expecting and such." 

"Mmm-hmm." Hoshi was staring at his hands. She slowly moved her gaze up his arms, across his chest, and up to his face. When her eyes met his, she flushed and said, "Right, you were saying?" 

Trip shifted uncomfortably. Her quarters smelled exactly like her—all cinnamon and shampoo and soap. He reminded himself of his point. 

"Yeah. I just thought you should know…it's only fair…I've only had three relationships in my life, an' I managed to screw up every last one of 'em." 

"Single-handedly?" Hoshi said. She scooted closer to him. 

Trip scooched backwards until he hit the edge of the couch. "Well, no, not completely…but I did my part." 

Hoshi sighed. "Trip, I think it's safe to say we've both failed at relationships before. Otherwise we wouldn't be here. That's the system…you just keep trying until you find the right person. And then, you still work really hard at it, but with the right person, it works." 

Put that way, it sounded pretty reasonable. Especially when Hoshi was looking at him like that. And her pink little tongue was stealing out to wet her lips. 

"That's true," he conceded. "I just want you to know I'm takin' this seriously. This isn't a fling for me." 

Hoshi stopped in her advance. "And you think it is for me?" 

"I don't know, Hoshi. That's what I'm tryin' to tell you." 

Hoshi suddenly got off the couch, dropping to her knees before him. Leaning forward with her hands on his legs, she said, "It isn't. I'm not looking for fun…well, not just fun." She grinned at him lecherously and Trip chuckled. "I can't say that this will last forever, Trip. But I think we've got a shot…and I will be seeing it through, whatever happens." 

Trip felt…happy. He smiled down at her. "Ok then. Guess there's only one thing to do." 

"What's th…" Hoshi squeaked when he cut off her sentence by launching off the couch, pushing her with him until he was lying on top of her on the floor. She laughed as he showered her with kisses. "Trip!" 

"I thought you were going to call me Charlie," Trip said against the corner of her mouth. 

"Charlie," Hoshi sighed as the kisses grew languorous, Trip's hands moving over her. "You know," she murmured, "the bed's right over there." 

Trip raised his head enough to smile at her. She looked up at him, lips swollen, face flushed, and smiled back. His stomach twinged. 

"Oh, we'll get there," he said, and she giggled. "Eventu'lly." 

**** 

Jon walked through the corridors, wearing his usual nightclothes, thinking of the past day. He smiled to himself. His conversation with the Doctor had been enlightening to say the least. 

Stopping outside a door, Jon wiped sweaty palms on his pants and rang the chime. 

He heard her call, "Come in." 

When he opened the door, he saw that she too was dressed for bed. She was sitting on the floor and her meditation candle still burned, illuminating her skin. He glanced up and down the corridor, quickly, and then stepped inside the room. 

"What can I do for you, Captain?" 

If anyone else had heard her, they would have said her tone was emotionless. Jon, however, knew her well enough to pick up the tension in her voice. 

"I came to make sure you were feeling better. You seemed a little stressed to me," he said, walking over to pick up a book from her shelf. He glanced at it, and then set it back down, focusing on her. 

"I am…well. Thank you for your concern," she said, rising. 

He walked toward her slowly, causing her to step back. 

"I was thinking we could have that talk now," he said, continuing to advance. 

"Yes, Captain," T'Pol said, dodging around him to the center of the room. She stood by her meditation candle, reminding Jon of a deer in headlights. He smiled at her. She arched an eyebrow. 

He saw her swallow, and followed the motion with his eyes. Her breathing increased, just slightly. He moved toward her again. 

"I talked to Phlox. He said you brought Trip and Hoshi in because you thought they might be experiencing residual effects?" 

"I was apparently mistaken," she said. Jon could have sworn her skin flushed with green. 

"What happened?" Jon said, sitting down on the floor patting the ground next to him. T'Pol lowered herself with her customary grace. 

"They were in the corridor in a compromising position. I assumed there must be a lingering problem. I thought it best to contact the doctor." 

Jon scooted toward her. He watched her fight the urge to stand up and move away from him. Her Vulcan pride, which she would deny existed, won and she stayed seated. Jon smiled at how proud he was of her. 

"What made you assume that? You aren't having any…residual effects, are you?" 

"No. I am fine," she said. Jon scooted even closer until his knees pressed against hers. 

"That's too bad," he said. 

T'Pol arched an eyebrow. 

Jon reached out a hand, snagging hers. He entwined their fingers, then looked back into her eyes. 

"Because I sure am," he said. 

He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. T'Pol stiffened, but gave in to the kiss. He marveled at her heat, and taste, thinking he could never tire of it. They lowered until they lay on the floor, thrilled at the feel of one another. Her scent was intoxicating and he briefly forgot where they were. 

When T'Pol rolled on top, he felt the hardness of the floor beneath his back. He broke the kiss off, and looked into her eyes. He rolled them over again and pulled away from her. He held out his hand and she took it. Pulling her to her feet, he wrapped his arms around her middle. 

"I told you we'd do this when it was right." 

He chuckled when he felt her arms around him as well. He picked her up in his arms and walked toward the bed. Kissing her, he lowered her down onto the soft sheets. 

T'Pol looked up at him. "Captain…" He frowned at her. "Jonathon," she corrected, "Vulcans do not mate…casually." 

"Neither do I, T'Pol." He watched her face, serious now. Reading the look in his eyes, she nodded and pulled him back to her. 

**** 

Jon lightly brushed T'Pol's damp hair away from her forehead, placing a light kiss there. She was shaking, so he pulled her against him tightly. Reaching to the bottom of the bed, he pulled the blankets up, tucking them both in. 

His eyes were closed and he caressed T'Pol's back from top to bottom reassuringly. She continued to shiver and Jon opened his eyes. Her head rested on his arm, and she watched him through hooded eyes. 

"Are you cold?" he asked. 

She shook her head negatively. 

"Thank you for waiting…until I was myself," she said, looking into his eyes. 

"You once told me you trusted me. I couldn't betray that confidence," he said sleepily. He kissed the top of her head once again. 

T'Pol buried her face in the crook of his neck. She placed a light kiss there. 

"That is why I chose you," she said. "I knew you would honor that trust." 

"You mean more to me than you'll ever know, T'Pol. But I'm going to do my best to show you," Jon said. Giving her a drowsy smile and kiss, he drifted off to sleep. 

T'Pol listened to his breathing steady. In the next few days their bond would be completely forged, and she would know exactly how much she meant to him, just as he would be able to read her feelings. She lifted her head to watch his sleeping face. The psychic bond would only confirm what she already knew. Lowering her head and closing her eyes, T'Pol fell asleep, warmed by the man she loved. 

****


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: See earlier chapters! 

**** 

Jon watched, entranced, as T'Pol carefully spooned plomeek soup into her mouth. His own pancakes sat forgotten in front of him. 

T'Pol closed her lips around another spoonful, sliding the spoon out of her mouth slowly. She raised her eyes to his and he realized she knew exactly what she was doing to him. 

She dabbed her mouth delicately with her napkin. "Is Commander Tucker not joining us this morning?" 

Jon reluctantly dragged his mind back to duty. "Um…yes, he's supposed to. We still need to come up with a plan of action for dealing with the…incident on Rashila. I told him to meet us here…" 

Jon stood up and went to the comm. He pressed a button. "Archer to Tucker." They waited. To no avail. 

Jon glanced back at T'Pol. "You might try Ensign Sato's quarters," she suggested blandly. 

"Oh," Jon said, feeling stupid. "Right." 

He pressed the comm again. "Archer to Sato." There was a lengthy pause, and Hoshi's husky voice came back. 

"Sato here." 

"Um…Hoshi, is Trip there? I need to speak with him." 

Another pause. 

"What's up, Cap'n?" Trip's voice was restrained impatience. 

"Trip, are you planning to meet us for breakfast this morning?" 

"Mmm…" Trip said distractedly. "No?" 

Jon rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I wasn't clear, Commander. This isn't a request. We have business to discuss." 

Silence. Just as Jon was totally losing his patience, Trip responded, "Mind if I bring along a guest?" 

"Fine. I'll see you in ten minutes." 

Jon released the comm and returned to his seat. He took a bite of pancake, leaning over the plate to keep from spilling syrup on his uniform. Looking up, he found T'Pol watching the progress of his fork. 

He grinned at her. "Too bad you don't like sugar. You don't know what you're missing." 

"On the contrary. I have developed something of a sweet tooth since coming aboard Enterprise." 

"Oh really?" 

**** 

Twelve minutes later, Trip and Hoshi skidded to a stop outside of the Mess Hall. Out of breath, he turned to her. "Do I look ok?" 

She inspected him and nodded. "Me?" 

Trip looked her up and down. "Oh yeah…" He leaned in for a quick kiss and wound up staying for the full show. Pulling back, he whispered, "Have I ever told you how adorable you look when ya wear your hair in that ponytail?" 

Hoshi smiled and patted her hair absently. "It's all I had time for, as late as we're running." 

"It was worth it, darlin'," Trip told her with a lusty grin. 

She grinned back. "Well, come on. Let's get this over with so we can get back to better activities. Don't want to waste a day off." 

Trip winked and dropped her hand. "Guess we'd better try to look professional for a few minutes." 

Hoshi nodded and they entered the Mess Hall together. Judging by the looks they got, they weren't fooling anybody. Still, they held their heads high as they walked to the Captain's Mess. 

When the door opened, they saw Captain Archer and T'Pol engrossed in each other over pancakes. 

"Cap'n, you aware you got a Vulcan's mouth stuck to your finger?" Trip asked. He struggled to keep a straight face and failed miserably. 

T'Pol and Jon jumped apart, T'Pol wiping discreetly at the maple syrup on the corner of her mouth. 

"Join us, Hoshi," Jon said. Lowering his voice threateningly, he added, "Trip." 

Far from feeling threatened, Trip grinned at him brightly. 

Trip and Hoshi took their seats, and the steward brought in two more plates of pancakes. 

"Before we continue eating, I feel there are some things we need to discuss," Jon said, glancing around the table and sitting back. "There are some new...pairings on board. Starfleet will have to be notified." 

Trip immediately got his back up. 

"Cap'n, I gotta say if Starfleet has a problem with this, that's too bad. I don't intend to stop seeing Hoshi," he said defiantly. 

Hoshi flushed and smiled, pleased. 

"I won't end my relationship with Commander Tucker, either," she said. 

Trip smiled at her dotingly and reached out to squeeze her hand. 

Jon grinned at them, glad for his friends. 

"The Captain and I intend to see that the crew is allowed to live the life they want," T'Pol said. 

Jon put his Captain face back on. 

"The main thing is setting an example," he said, looking pointedly at Trip and Hoshi. "We can't have anymore scenes like the one T'Pol came across yesterday. You need to show a little more restraint." 

Hoshi flushed and Trip smiled. 

"So, you're sayin' be more like you and T'Pol? More restrained?" Trip said thoughtfully. 

Jon eyed him warily. 

"I guess. Yes, more like us," he smiled over at T'Pol. 

Trip grabbed the syrup and poured an abundant amount on his plate. Hand on the bottle, he smiled sweetly at Hoshi. 

"Syrup, darlin'?" he asked. 

"Yes, thank you, Charlie," she said, offering her own sweet smile. 

Trip promptly let go of the bottle and dipped his hand into the syrup on his plate, holding out his sticky fingers to her. 

Leaning in, Hoshi wrapped her hand around his wrist. She carefully licked each individual finger until it was wiped clean of syrup. 

Jon and T'Pol watched the exchange silently. 

Trip suppressed a groan at the feeling of her rough little tongue moving over his fingers. There'd be time for that later. At the moment he was making a point. 

He and Hoshi turned their heads as one and grinned at Jon and T'Pol. Hoshi burst into laughter. 

Jon cracked a smile, and T'Pol arched her eyebrow. 

"You're both hilarious, Commander, Ensign. An absolute riot," Jon said. 

Smiling, Trip opened his mouth again. Jon pointed his fork at him, cutting him off. "Shut up and eat your pancakes, Trip. Before I decide the two of you need to spend the day at your stations after all." 

Trip eyed at him contemplatively. Jon was probably joking… 

He thought about maple syrup and Hoshi's tongue. 

He ate his pancakes. 

**** 

FINIS 


End file.
